When I was young I wished I could sprinkle gummy-bears in my cereal, in my mind it would taste like… well, gummy-bears with milk – I’d say ‘the rainbow’ but I was also born with the sarcasm bone lodged snug in my brain. That bone only warrants me to smirk, but with me that’s the equivalent of bursting out in a Disney song in the street. At the sight of Furla’s Candy bags from SS11 I smirked, and the inner child in me did the whole discography of Disney. I think I will actually pour milk in the bag and drink out of it. Isn’t that a perfect ‘bread soup bowl’ logic or what.

So welcome to the garden party! Well, not strictly garden, but I promise there will be a party. I’ve got SIX Candybags (colour of your choice) to give out, isn’t Furla amazing, and here’s all you need to do: Follow me….

…. to a dark alley and see what I need from your wallet.
No.

That’s all. And please, don’t be super clever and leave multiple comments under different names, the web wasn’t born yesterday, there’s a simple way of knowing :)

Two bags will be given away to London & UK participants. Winners will be announced at the London Furla collection launch event in mid-April, to which everyone is invited (the party! 20% off, ‘spiked’ lemonade and DJs).

Four bags for the rest of the world!

Deadline for participating is 10th April 2011, 23:59 GMT

Here’s the voluntary somersault bit. Obviously Furla has so generously given six bags to be handed out, so it would be nice, out of respect but not requirement, to show support by liking their Facebook page.

I’m shamelessly attaching my own Facebook page and Twitter too, for the hours and hours I will dedicate in managing this giveaway just for the love for my readers.

The fact that this polo shirt is the brightest of blue (and the fact that my forehead is basically a lightbulb) does not help the fact that this balcony faces a wall of cars waiting at the lights on the main road outside my house. For innate self-defence’s sake I guess the body pulled the I need to pee pose in order to make the outdoor cinema crowd to assume that I’m just standing on my balcony in front of a tripod because I truly do have to pee. In two different outfits.

This second polo of Uniqlooks was quite the challenge, which is worrying in itself because a few years ago I remember insisting on only wearing polo shirts. What does that say about my highschool fashion sense? I guess it doesn’t say much, other than douchebag.

We all know how I feel about giveaways – I know how a lot of you feel about giveaways. I don’t like holding the hoops up as much as you probably don’t like jumping through them. BUT I think you’ll like this, and I promise, no hoops. Maybe a few somersaults but only because you want to, and I’m rolling with you, grass stains and whatnot. Heck, how about a garden party with Candybag prizes, lemonade and pizza available!

Watch this space!

Do you like my hand as model? If you haven’t noticed, it’s nude, rawr.

Well, other than migrating from bed to bed in the house for mini naps and mapping the neighbours from my window I managed to convince a friend to meet for a coffee. OK FINE, I begged her. Convince, beg, same difference. (Sob) Flora showed me the cosiest cafe in Warsaw called My ‘o’ my where I had best salad in town. Well, probably the best in town because I have virtually no friends and thus haven’t had too many salads in town.

OK enough with the moping, clearly this being alone in a big house has given me the catlady attitude. My parents are coming back tomorrow so a reminder to those who’ve passed out after the houseparty and never left, please TYOB (Take Your Own Beercans).

Very unusual, this experience I had… Do I mean surreal? Sure, the collection was unexpectedly sizzling-haute and what was a loser like me doing at a Giles show in the first place, but still, bizarre. I can’t really put a finger on it; I guess partially it was the fact that I had no idea what to expect, what with Giles’ previous season being so fun and colourful – the dark setting at the Royal Courts of Justice was puzzling at first. Also, all throughout the show my Canon refused to cooperate, so half the time I spent wrestling it and muttering Santa doesn’t visit naughty cameras threats… The most bizarre of all though, was going backstage after the show for an interview with Giles (that I chickened out from). It’s common knowledge that pre-show backstage is literally a feast to the eyes, but like all good shows expiring after the curtain’s fall, post-show backstage displayed a rather real side of fashion – the cold logistics of wrapping up the pieces and models stepping out of their ‘wings’. I must say the experience was slightly unnerving, but it was a somewhat valuable reminder that the so called ‘fashion world’ is without doubt, built in the clouds.